Page 12 of The Immortal's One
The three of us turn our attention toward the crowd, people-watching as the music pulses around us. Kayla’s practically vibrating with energy, bobbing her head to the beat. She and Josh vibe with the music, whereas my attention keeps drifting.
Now that Des isn’t standing right in front of me,distracting me with his daunting presence, I can’t shake the memory of how distant he seemed when Thane introduced him. It was like he couldn’t wait to get away from us.
Was he being a jerk?
Or maybe he’s like me, someone who’d rather be anywhere but here?
The next song pumps up in tempo.
Kayla squeals. “I love this song!” She raises her glass and starts shimmying her shoulders.
Josh leans towards her, his eyes bright with interest. “Wanna dance?”
“Yes! Oh—wait.” Her eyes meet mine.
I wave her off with a smile. “Go ahead. I’ll hold down the table.”
She needs no further encouragement. “Okay! We’ll be back soon.”
With a quick peck on my cheek, she grabs Josh’s hand and pulls him into the crowd, leaving me alone.
Three songsand four strangers who tried—and failed—to strike up a conversation later, I’ve had enough.
I lost track of Kayla and Josh after the first song, but when the next popular hit blasted through the speakers, I knew I wouldn’t be seeing her anytime soon.
I don’t mind. Not really. I’m glad she’s having fun. But Ireallydon’t want to be stuck here listening to the guy with slicked-back hair go on and on about his family's wealth for who knows how long.
“I need to pee,” I blurt out mid-story, cutting him off as hebrags about his Thanksgiving ski trip with his hedge-fund dad. “Excuse me.”
The people-pleaser in me cringes at my rudeness, but not enough to stick around for any more unwanted attention.
I walk away without waiting for a response, sparing a passing thought for the drinks I left behind. I trust Kayla and Josh to be smart enough to avoid them once they realize they’ve been abandoned.
The bathrooms are on the far side of the club, and the crowded dance floor is a maze of bodies. I stick to the edge, skirting the perimeter to avoid getting caught in the frenzy. It takes longer than expected, and I grimace every time my skin brushes against a sweaty stranger.
Eventually, I make it to the bathroom, relieved when the door shuts behind me: no music, no bodies, just blissful silence.
I step inside. It’s empty, which is odd, given how crowded the club is.
I walk over to the sink, turn on the cold water, and grab a paper towel. I dampen it and gently dab my face, taking in my reflection. My curls are holding up despite the heat and humidity in the club. A bit of foundation’s worn off, though, revealing the freckles on my nose. I can’t stand them. They make me look like a little kid.
Des’s stoic face flashes in my mind.
I scowl at my reflection. Des is a stranger. I don’t care if he saw my freckles.
With a frustrated sigh, I push the thought away and smooth my hands over my outfit. The maroon bodysuit tucked under the form-fitting mini-skirt is tight but flattering. Kayla has a gift with fashion—a gift I lack.
With one last look in the mirror, I take a deep breath tobrace myself. In a few hours, I’ll be back home, curled up in bed with a book, escaping into forbidden romance and magical worlds. I can do this.
I step back into the dim club, only to have the music immediately assault my eardrums again. I stumble a little, the volume disorienting after the calm of the bathroom.
Reaching out for balance, I place my hand on the wall, steadying myself before heading back to the main room to find Kayla and Josh.
Just as I’m about to turn the corner, a voice cuts through the noise—low, tense, unmistakably masculine.
“For the last time, you’re wrong. She isnother.”
The words are sharp with frustration, but the weariness in the tone grabs my attention.
